


Spider

by kylostahp (hawkeward)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Shibari, Weird Insect Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8034097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkeward/pseuds/kylostahp
Summary: Hux lays a trap for Kylo Ren.





	Spider

Kylo Ren is not as subtle in his attentions as he thinks. Hux knows the knight has been watching him, for all that they spend little enough time in each other’s presence—Ren lurks through the bowels of the _Finalizer,_ Hux allows him to do so, and neither of them deigns to acknowledge the other.

But when their paths cross, Hux can feel Ren’s focus like a tangible thing—it crawls over him like an insect nearly every moment they occupy the same space. Ren fidgets and prowls and offers disinterested grunts, all while his obsession traces frenetically over Hux’s mind and body. It’s an aimless, patternless scuttling of too many appendages against his skin that sets the fine hairs at the back of Hux’s neck standing with irritated disgust.

He imagines it as a fat black beetle, the sort that would produce a satisfying crunch and spurt of ichor when crushed beneath a booted foot. It’s how he ought to deal with the situation: dispose of Ren. Dispose similarly of anyone who might have noted the direction of his co-commander’s focus. Carry on without inconvenient distraction.

And yet... there are ways to direct even the simplest of organisms, or channel even the basest energies. Kylo Ren may yet be useful to him.

It is with that in mind that he retrieves the coil of smooth black cord from the storage unit in his quarters. He hasn’t used it since the Starkiller project began in earnest—there has been precious little opportunity for personal indulgences—so he takes his time, savoring the way the slick material flows like liquid between his fingers as he sorts and sections it.

The pattern he selects is a simple one, a decorative harness not so intricate as to require alterations to normal movement. Concealable. He makes quick work of it—looping the cord around the back of his neck and down his pale front, between his legs and up again to his nape. His cock gives an interested twitch as he draws the cord taut and knots it, beginning the process of weaving the harness to frame his chest.

He loses himself for a time in the sensation—the contrast between his warm fingertips and the cool material of the cord, the growing comfort of its snug enclosure, the meditative motion of the pattern. He’s fully hard by the time he finishes and assesses his work in the mirror, cock rosy and standing out from the neat frame of stark black loops and knots crossing his hips. A matching flush has begun to creep down his chest, bringing a pleasing glow to his usual pallor.

He squeezes the base of his cock indulgently, his other hand splayed across the network of cord over his chest to idly thumb a nipple. A gentle roll of his hips shifts the thick twist drawn tight through the cleft of his ass to rub against his sensitive hole—in the mirror, he watches his eyelids flutter, mouth parted around a hitching little sigh.

He makes a pretty picture, like this. Perhaps one day he’ll allow Ren to see it.

For now, he releases his erection and dresses, smoothing the fabric of his uniform over his work. He stretches experimentally, testing how the harness tightens and flexes as he moves—it’s just restrictive enough to keep him aware of its presence, snug around him as his clothing shifts distractingly over cord and skin. Catching himself in the mirror a final time, he notes the faint flush that still lingers on his cheeks and straightens the fall of his jacket to conceal the slight bulge of his still half-hard cock.

When Ren next slouches onto the bridge, Hux again feels the skittering crawl of his attention—and the way it snags on the web of cord woven over his skin. It traces along the lines of the pattern, no longer an insect’s aimless scuttling, but the trail of fascinated fingertips. Ren stands still and straight, staring his direction, utterly ensnared.

**Author's Note:**

> Come fight with me on [tumblr](http://kylostahp.tumblr.com/) about how red is not a good color on Hux, even for ropes.


End file.
